


FuckBuddies

by Peetabreadgirl



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-21 01:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peetabreadgirl/pseuds/Peetabreadgirl
Summary: Exactly what the title says. Just read it.





	1. Chapter 1

“Are we really doing this?” Katniss asks Peeta as they finish the last of their beers. Peeta sets his empty glass down and she watches him twist it back and forth between his fingers. He shrugs.

 

“I mean, we’re both swamped with work, no time for dating much less a relationship. It’ll be a great way to unwind. Are... you okay with it?” he asks hesitantly, lobbing the ball back in her court. One perfect blonde eyebrow quirks up as he waits for her answer.  

 

She nods slightly, still disbelieving the idea they’ve come up with and that she even agreed to it. It’s so not her style, but if she’s going to be anyone’s fuck buddy, Peeta would be her choice. He's been a great friend to her over the last year, and he’s the type of guy who wouldn’t hurt his worst enemy. Throw in the hard body Katniss can tell is hiding under his crisp button downs and diagonally striped ties, and his selfless nature, there’s no way she can lose. He, on the other hand, should be wary of her ‘run away when things get messy’ nature, so with his emotional safety in mind, she says, “I think we need some ground rules first, though.”   
  


“That’s probably a good idea, since we work together and all. What do you have in mind?” He pushes the glass away and leans onto the table with his elbows. She has the full attention of those warm blue eyes she’s admired countless times in the last twelve months.  

 

“Well,” she bites her thumbnail as she considers which one to lead with. They’ve been swirling around in her head for the last hour since they started this crazy-but-not-crazy idea. “We should probably hold off until we’ve both been tested.” She hasn't been with anyone in a while, and she's pretty sure his span of time is the same. When they met 387 days ago he was just getting out of a relationship. But still, safety over stupidity. “I just think it’s smart for both of us, you know?” 

 

“Okay,” he agrees easily. “Next?”

 

“Never without protection.”

 

“Got it. I’ll be sure to carry a sleeve of condoms on me at all times.” He makes a check mark in the air. “What else?”

 

“If you fuck someone else I want you to tell me. And you have to use protection with other partners. I’ll give you the same courtesy.”

 

“Hold on a second,” he says, putting his hands up. “I disagree.” 

 

“You disagree with using protection if you end up sleeping with someone else?”   
  


“No, that makes perfect sense. What I disagree with is us having multiple partners. Besides, we’ve already established that neither of us has had any luck finding someone, which is why we’re entering into this arrangement in the first place. So what reason is there to see anybody else right now?”

 

“That’s called dating, Peeta. I thought we were just helping each other out of our dry spells? Giving your hand and my vibrator a break.” Peeta cringes and she regrets her crass words.

 

“Okay, we’re working on your dirty talk before we do this.” 

 

“I wasn’t trying to turn you on,” Katniss says dryly. “Just stating the facts.”

 

“Look, it’s just an added layer of protection for both of us. I think if you even start to have feelings for someone else you should tell me, because by default that makes me the  _ other _ guy. Without my knowledge.”

 

“You make a good point.” Katniss taps her chin with her index finger, then adds, “Okay.” 

 

“Anything else?” he asks.

 

“Not that I can think of. Anything you want to add?” 

 

Peeta shakes his head and Katniss sticks out her hand. He slides his palm into hers. She fights back a shiver thinking about what the rest of his body will feel like against her skin. It’s been a long time since she’s been with a man. “When do we start?”

 

“Friday gives us a week to get our tests back,” he answers. 

 

Friday. One week. It seems so far to Katniss, yet not far enough. On the one hand, she hasn’t been with a man in a long time. On the other hand, the one that holds the vibrator, she hasn’t been with a man in a long time. Nerves of  _ finally! _ and  _ oh my god he’s going to see me naked! _ swirl together like oil and water in the same space, never mixing to form the confidence she needs to feel. 

 

“That works for me,” she says, leaning on the nerves that help the most. As she and Peeta part ways with a quick hug, a hug that feels like  _ less  _ where it used to feel like  _ enough _ , she wonders if this is a bad choice. This has all the potential of ruining what they have now. Is she willing to risk it? Is he? But the charming, effortless smile he turns on her before he disappears into his car whispers that everything will be okay. She hopes he’s right. 

 

On the drive home, Katniss ignores the pitching of her stomach and makes a mental checklist of all the things she needs to do before Friday after work, like clean her apartment, groom her nether regions, and buy underwear that  _ doesn’t  _ get five stars from geriatric women. Oh, and the most important thing - schedule a test.  

 

The weekend flies by and Katniss finds herself under a mound of paperwork. She hasn’t seen Peeta all morning, not that she’s looking for him, but around 12:30 he pokes his head through her door. 

 

“Knock knock,” he says with simultaneous taps on the wood. She looks up and smiles the way she always has at him, though now her stomach does a little swoop - something it’s never done before. Or if it has, she hasn’t noticed until now. 

 

“Hey,” she greets him as he steps inside, giving voice to her earlier thought. “I haven’t seen you all morning.”

 

Peeta rubs at the back of his neck and she notices his eyes dart away and back. “I, uh, had an appointment.” 

 

“Oh?” Katniss questions as she shuffles stacks of file folders off to the side to give Peeta her full attention. He’s dressed nice today, nothing out of the ordinary for him, but for some reason he looks…  _ sexier.  _ His dress shirt is light blue against creamy, pale skin, bringing the darker blue of his eyes into focus from across the room, and his black slacks seem more fitted today. Glancing at the clock, Katniss notices it’s after lunch. Peeta normally has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows by now. 

 

“Yeah. I’ll, um, get you the results as soon as I get them. I know we said Friday, but if I’ve got ‘em I don’t see the point in holding onto them.”

 

“Oh. Sure, yeah, the sooner the better.” She gives him what she hopes is an easy-going smile but what feels like a grimace. 

 

“You wanna get lunch today?” 

 

“Um,” Katniss looks down at her watch again, not that she needs to since she just checked the time, but looking directly into his eyes today seems intense. “It would have to be quick. I’ve got a 1:30.” 

 

“No problem. I can do a quickie,” he says. Katniss snorts in light of their recent development. If she had been drinking water she would have ended up dousing him from five feet away.  

 

“I hope that’s not the case. At least the first time,” she quips. She grabs her purse from the bottom drawer and swings it over her shoulder as she walks toward the door. 

 

His eyes narrow and a sexy smirk crawls lazily across his lips after he realizes what it sounded like. “Don’t you worry your pretty head. The first time is going to be the best time.”

 

“So are you saying the second time is going to suck?” Katniss slides her eyes to his profile as they walk down the hall to the elevators, proud of her quick wit. 

 

He straightens his tie and replies immediately, “I hope so.” 

 

Katniss barks out a laugh at his comeback. “Nice,” she says, holding her fist out for him. He bumps it with his own and they both make little fist explosions in the air. 

 

Lunch is fast. They sit in a tiny booth in the corner of the cafe and scarf down their sandwiches, talking about the latest hires to their accounting firm. As head of HR, Katniss has to do background checks and orientation interviews with them. She hates the interview part, but at least she has a script to go by. She also hates watching the same boring video about workplace etiquette with them, but lucky for her she doesn’t have to conversate during that part. That’s why she loves being friends with Peeta. He’s so easy. Sometimes they talk, and sometimes they just sit in each other’s company. No expectations. She thinks that’s why the arrangement will work between them. 

 

On the way up in the elevator she catches Peeta tugging at the buttons of his cuffs and smirks to herself. It’s roll up the shirtsleeves time. Every inch of skin he exposes wakes something up in her. The muscles of his forearms flex just a little, and she bets the smattering of fine blonde hairs that rest on his arms feel like silk. She almost reaches out to touch them, but she stops herself. 

 

Would that be something a girlfriend would do? They definitely aren’t in a romantic relationship, so touching him outside of their scheduled canoodling times would have to be off limits. Before she can add that to their list of rules, the elevator doors open and one of their coworkers stands on the other side, waiting to get in. 

 

Katniss smiles politely as they pass Becky, who only has eyes for Peeta. Always has. Ever since Katniss began working at Abernathy & Trinket, Becky has swooned over her friend and given Katniss the stink eye on more than one occasion. If she only knew their arrangement...

 

“Peeta!” Becky uses her surprised voice, as if she wasn’t hovering there waiting for him to return. 

 

_ Stalker. _

 

Peeta stops to address the pretty blonde and Katniss pauses as well, though further up the hall, and fiddles with her phone to make it seem like she’s not eavesdropping. “Hi, Rebecca.” Peeta’s response is kind and Katniss can hear the smile in it. 

 

“There’s a Monday Madness happy hour at the Hob tonight. A few of us are going. Thought you might want to go, too.” She’s smooth, inviting him out as a group. Katniss knows he’s turned her down once in the last few months, but she persists in trying to spend time with him outside of the office. 

 

“It’s an office thing?” Peeta asks.

 

“Mhm.” Katniss can feel the perky nod and see the bounce of a fluffy ponytail in her mind’s eye. 

 

“Katniss?” she turns to the duo at the sound of her name, one eyebrow raised in question. “There’s an office thing tonight. You going?” Peeta asks, and Becky’s eyebrows almost draw together before she stops herself and pastes on an indifferent mask. 

 

“Actually, I have a doctor’s appointment after work,” she answers with a light shrug. Peeta’s eyebrow quirks and one side of his mouth lifts slightly, then he clears his throat and it’s gone just as quickly. Even if Katniss didn’t have somewhere to be, she doesn’t have any interest in spending more time with the people she works with, especially when she’s in charge of all the disciplinary paperwork and things like exit interviews. It gets messy when you know the people relationally. That’s why she prefers to keep her distance. 

 

She’ll never forget the time she had to fire Rachel, a girl that had befriended her when she’d first come to work here. It was totally unfair, but it was her job, and the powers that be handed down the order. Rachel was shocked. When she started to cry, Katniss tried to offer some comfort but her friend had started to yell things like  _ ‘How could you?’  _ and  _ ‘I thought we were friends?’ _ . She tried to explain it wasn’t her decision, just her job, but Rachel needed to blame someone. Katniss hasn’t seen her since that day. 

 

“Maybe next time.” Becky’s attention is back on Peeta before she’s finished dismissing Katniss. She’s never been bothered by the girl before, but something starts to eat at her in that moment. Just a tiny nibble of annoyance, but it’s there, and she reacts to it. 

 

“On second thought, it shouldn’t take too long. I might be able to make it after,” Katniss says, stepping up to them with her eyes on Becky’s the whole time. She’s waiting for a flash of disappointment or ire in them, but she doesn’t get it. Instead, Becky flashes a brilliant smile at Peeta and says, “Great. We’ll see you both there.”

 

The rest of the afternoon flies by and the work piles up, leaving Katniss no time to consider backing out of happy hour. Not that she would. Okay, maybe she would. Maybe she  _ should. _ It’s really not her thing.

  
At that moment, Becky pokes her head in the door, a forced smile on her face. “Katniss? Can we talk?” 

 

Katniss glances at the clock, noting she has just a few minutes until she has to leave for the doctor. Of course Becky would wait until the last minute to come to her with a complaint or a problem she’d have to spend the next fifteen minutes processing. She needs to cut this off before she misses her appointment and has to reschedule. Her doctor is booked up until next week, which is a whole 72 hours after she’ll need the test results. She isn’t willing to wait. “Can you make an appointment for first thing in the morning? I have to leave pretty quick.”

 

“It’s not HR related. I’ll be fast, I promise,” she says as she steps in and closes the door behind her, not giving Katniss the chance to leave. 

 

Whatever it is, Katniss is too curious to leave now. “Fine, but if you don’t mind, and since it’s not work related, I’ll be packing my things up while you talk.” Katniss stands and begins filling her messenger bag with work files and some personal things. 

 

“That’s fine. I just wanted to let you know, in case you didn’t, that... “ 

 

Becky trails off but Katniss keeps packing and organizing her desk, eventually glancing up in the silence. She pauses, taking a moment to look the girl over. She’s young and curvy like a lot of guys prefer. Which always makes Katniss wonder why Peeta turns a blind eye to her flirting. She’s prettier than Katniss gives her credit for. Maybe it’s because she’s being quiet and contemplative, and it makes her look almost friendly. 

 

“That?” Katniss prompts when she sees she only has 60 seconds until she has to leave. 

 

“I like Peeta. And… I was hoping you’d maybe  _ not  _ be around him tonight.” Her words are shocking. Not that she likes Peeta - Katniss already knew that. But that she wants Katniss to stay away from him. Maybe she didn’t say it as bluntly, but it’s there in the undercurrent of her statement. And definitely in the blue eyes that are staring back at her. 

 

Katniss isn’t sure what to say, especially considering their new ‘arrangement’. And what right does Becky have to ask her  _ not  _ to hang out with her only friend after hours? She’d love to rip into the girl, all straight blonde hair, white teeth and pouty lips, but she’s a professional, and the first thing they teach you about HR is to keep your cool in the face of adversity. Or in this case, stupidity. 

 

Twenty seconds left. Katniss adjusts her bag across her body and flips her hair out from under the strap, eyes never leaving Becky’s. She doesn’t have time for what she really wants to say, so she settles for the truth of the moment. “We’re just friends,” she says, and leaves Becky in her office, shooting daggers from her eyes. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Hob is bustling when Katniss arrives. She’s thirty minutes late, but she kept her promise to show up. She scans the area, eyes quickly roaming over the shiny, black-topped bar with it’s mirrored background that makes this small bar look twice its size. There’s a second room with a few pool tables and a jukebox off the back, and Katniss makes her way there when she doesn’t spot her coworkers. 

 

Sure enough, a handful of them are there. Her eyes find Peeta immediately with his light blonde hair and easy smile. He’s standing next to Becky, who’s holding a wobbling pool stick in the wrong position and bending over the table. It’s so obvious to Katniss that she’s faking it - no one is that bad. 

 

She watches with thinly veiled interest as Peeta gives Becky pointers on how to hold the stick, leaning down beside her with his own in hand. He’s not touching her, and Katniss knows he’s friendly and helpful with everyone, but after Becky’s trip to her office earlier in the day, Katniss isn’t fond of Becky’s usual display. It seems more… personal. 

 

Becky just doesn’t like Katniss’s friendship with Peeta. That’s all it is. Though, as his friend, she’s never asked him why he doesn’t date Becky. Looking at them together, Katniss concedes they’d make a perfect couple. Both blondes with outgoing personalities; Peeta’s more subdued than Becky’s, but still vibrant. They’re both well-liked by (almost) everyone. There is the exception of Katniss’s opinion, but she supposes that’s just because Becky feels like they’re in competition. 

 

Katniss grins to herself, thinking Becky has no idea what kind of competition she’s just entered into, and with that thought in her head, she walks to the tall table closest to where Peeta is and sets her bag and coat down. She turns and continues to watch the lessons Peeta is giving, noting Becky’s gaze skimming in the direction of Peeta’s backside a few times when he’s not looking. It causes her eyes to land there as well. 

 

Pants that sail right past hugging and go straight to the groping phase look indecent on him after hours. She makes a mental note to see if it’s just as nice at the office tomorrow, then puts a mental slash through that thought. She can’t act like that at work. 

 

But  _ damn.  _ Strong thighs. Toned ass. She lets her mind wander to places she’s never entertained with him. But that was before their arrangement, when considering the sexual prowess of a friend would have been inconsiderate and made work awkward and sweaty. 

 

There’s a tingle of excitement that starts in her belly as her eyes continue to trek slowly over his bent form. From his black oxfords to his trim waist. She appreciates the way his shirt stretches taut over his back and shoulders, giving her a mini-glimpse of what she can tell are well-defined muscles. She loves a good, strong back and shoulders. Can’t wait to rake her nails over sinews of his flesh there. 

 

Her eyes land on the undeniably chiseled bone structure of his jaw when he turns his head to tell Becky something. Katniss’s irises jump to Becky as she laughs at whatever it was, and she wants to intervene, but she knows patience will put Becky in her place as soon as Peeta notices her standing behind them, alone. 

 

She waits, resisting so many eye rolls at Becky’s over the top flirting that her head actually begins to hurt. It’s only a few minutes until Peeta realizes she’s there. His gorgeous blue eyes pierce first, then smooth over her like honey. Slow. Sweet. Thick. The tingling turns to a full on shiver, and she can’t help that her shoulders do a little shimmy. 

 

“Are you cold?” Peeta asks after erasing the ten feet between them, the flirty blonde all but forgotten. He still has the pool stick in one hand, his other hand finding his hip. Katniss doesn’t have to look over her shoulder to feel the daggers Becky is sending her way. 

 

“Definitely not cold,” she says, returning his grin. He cocks his head, looking interested. 

 

“How was your appointment?” he asks. 

 

Katniss shrugs, looking away for a beat. “I guess we’ll know in a day or two. Yours?”

 

“Same,” he answers, dropping the hand on his hip, leaning the pool stick against the wall. “You want me to get you a drink?”

 

A quick glance around confirms Becky is discreetly giving her the stink-eye while trying to chat with someone else. “I’d say yes, but I don’t want to upset a certain someone.” She quirks one eyebrow so he understands. “You know she was just pretending to need you to show her, right?” 

 

He snorts. Katniss would never say that a snort is attractive, but for whatever reason, she thinks it is on Peeta. “No. She really is terrible. You should have seen her try to break earlier. Besides, I was the one that offered to show her.” 

 

Something unattractive flares in her gut. She tells herself he doesn’t know about Becky’s visit earlier. He probably doesn’t know Becky at all, and of course he would offer to help someone. Even if that someone doesn’t really need it. She’d bet a million dollars he’d give every stitch of clothing off his back in a blizzard if he thought it would benefit someone else. That’s just the way he is. 

 

Her? She’s less inclined to believe in the inherent goodness of others. She’d rather someone prove themselves  _ before _ she gives out something as valuable as her trust. That could be a product of her upbringing, though. A dead-beat, cliche dad that made promises he couldn’t keep and a mom that got pregnant too early in life and didn’t have a chance to ‘find herself’, whatever that meant. Katniss was raised by her grandmother from the age of four. She’s the only person Katniss has ever given complete trust to. 

 

Until Peeta. 

 

He earned it, and earned it quickly. From the time she’d onboarded him to the company, she knew there was something special about him. The sincerity with which he carries himself, and treats everyone in the workplace like every day is their birthday, not to mention strangers any time they go out, is like a breath of fresh air to Katniss. Something she can count on. Some _ one _ , actually. 

 

“We’ll go together,” he offers, and she nods. He ushers her ahead of him, and for as many times as Peeta has touched the small of her back, she’s never felt it like this. Directly connected to that spot from moments ago, feeding the tingle that never really subsided. His pinky rests on the top of her backside, and she wonders if he notices how close his hand is to her ass. Just a few inches south and he could give her a good squeeze. 

 

She thinks about hooking her arm under his and resting her hand above his cheeks. But that’s something people in a relationship would do - walk with arms around each other. And they’re not in a relationship, so she focuses on the bar and her drink when it comes. Not on his lips as they wrap around his beer bottle. Not on his tongue as he catches an errant drop of liquid on the perfect cupid’s bow of his top lip. And not on his knee that keeps knocking into hers as they perch facing each other on the wooden bar stools. 

 

If she starts fantasizing about him like this, instead of keeping things in the tidy little box she’s labeled  _ Friday night _ , it could get messy. She could want him way more than she should. 

 

Katniss listens to Peeta talk and focuses on his words rather than the way his lips move smoothly around them. They’re laughing about an inappropriate email that went around a few months back when she spies Becky over Peeta’s shoulder, lurking in the doorway of the pool room. 

 

Without thinking, Katniss pushes softly on Peeta’s shoulder and laughs a little more. His smile widens and it’s beautiful. She’s always thought he had a gorgeous, natural smile. Straight teeth, one perfect dimple embedded in his left cheek. Eyes that shine with good-natured humor. 

 

It’s not like she’s never touched him before. She has, many times, and he’s reciprocated. But this thing happening four days from now? It’s got her seeing everything with new eyes.  _ Feeling _ with new skin. Thinking with a new direction. It’s dangerous. 

 

She excuses herself to the restroom, wrapping her hand around Peeta’s bicep to steady herself when she hops down from the barstool. The muscle underneath his shirt is round and solid. She feels it harden under her palm just before she lets go. 

 

After washing her hands, she stares at herself in the mirror. Fixes a few loose hairs. Notices the flush in her cheeks from the combination of alcohol and the warmth of the bar. Her eyes are a brighter silver than normal. She’s not normally into makeup, choosing the easy route of a little blush and some mascara, but she feels like dabbing on some peachy gloss. She smacks her lips together and calls it done, then walks back towards the bar.    
  


Not to her surprise, Becky is standing next to the stool she recently vacated, striking up a conversation with the decent-looking bartender. Her shoulder brushes up against Peeta’s, whose eyes are on a hockey game on the TV behind the bar. He moves a little to the left and gives Becky a kind smile. Katniss watches as Becky feigns an apology for bumping him.

 

“...didn’t see you there. Let me buy you a drink?” Katniss hears Becky ask him as she nears. 

 

“I’m good right now, but thanks for asking.” 

 

“I’m going to get going, Peeta,” Katniss says when she reaches the stool. She doesn’t miss the way Becky perks up at the news. 

 

“So soon?” he asks. 

 

I nod. “Afraid so.” Katniss half-fakes a yawn. She actually is tired, but even more than that, she doesn’t feel like competing with Becky anymore tonight. Not that there’s much competition. Becky is trying way too hard and Peeta is having none of it. Plus, she knows that Peeta will likely leave when she does. “I’ll see you all in the morning?” 

 

Becky smiles widely and Peeta pays his tab, then turns to Katniss. “I’ll walk you out.” 

 

Katniss fights off a smirk, knowing what she’d see if she dared to look in Becky’s direction. Peeta says a polite goodbye to her, using her formal name, then escorts his friend to her car. 

 

He opens the door, but she doesn’t get in right away. She stands there, waiting. For what, she’s not sure. Reassurance that they’re still on for Friday? Normally she would make a joke about the dying breed of chivalry and how many babies he’d have to make to get that resurrected, and he would laugh. Then she would drive away after saying something as simple as ‘see you later’. 

 

But the easy words don’t come. 

 

“You still okay with Friday?”  _ How did he know? _ “You don’t have much time to back out,” he says, glancing around the lot. She feels a flicker of disappointment. They haven’t really talked about it at length since Friday night, just a few updates here and there, but Katniss had hoped he was as up for this as she is.

 

“Are you having second thoughts, Mellark?” She uses his last name to lighten the bit of heaviness she feels. 

 

“Me?” He laughs lightly and shakes his head. “Not a chance, Everdeen.” He rubs the back of his neck, his expression turning less playful, more serious. “I just want you to be sure, that’s all.”

 

“Well I’m definitely not planning on meeting someone and falling in love in the next month, so I think I’m safe.” She snorts, expecting Peeta to at least smile with her, and he does, but it’s not the genuine smile that warms her heart. There’s something hesitant there. 

 

“Okay,” he finally says, breaking the odd silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah,” she says as she sits in her car. Peeta closes the door and pats the frame of the car twice, like he always does when she’s clear for take off. 

 

Once she’s home, she can’t sleep. She was tired earlier, but now she’s wide awake. After she brushes her teeth and changes into her sleep shirt, she flits around her apartment, cleaning. She’s not sure why she feels the need. Maybe she’s just trying to get a jump on her to do list before Friday. 

 

Peeta’s only been over a few times since they’ve become close. They usually meet wherever they’re going since Katniss likes the independence of driving her own car and being responsible for herself. He probably won’t even notice whether it’s spotless or a little messy, but still, something in her wants to impress him. 

 

A quick scrub of the bathroom tiles has Katniss giving herself appraising glances as she wipes tiny toothpaste spots off the mirror. Realizing she’s going to be naked in front of her best friend, she whips her shirt off and stares at her skin. It’s naturally bronzed and glowing, one of the only things she can attribute to her parents. It’s also smooth and clear, thanks to her regimen of high dollar body scrub and creams. If she chooses to splurge, that’s where she’ll do it - her skin. 

 

Her eyes move to her breasts. They fall short of a handful, but they’re perky at least. Not bad for a small frame. Nothing she can really do about them without spending a small fortune, and she’s not really into fake. 

 

She smoothes her hands down her soft but flat stomach, noting she could do with a few rounds of crunches, and makes a note to start adding them onto the end of her runs. 

 

Fingers untie her hair band and shake out the braid wears most days. She fixes her hair on either side of her shoulders to cascade down over her breasts, her dark pink areolas playing peek-a-boo with chestnut colored strands of hair. 

 

“This could work,” she says to herself out loud, not hating the seductive mermaid look. 

 

Her gaze then wanders to her panties. Gray and comfortable, those would definitely  _ not _ work. She thinks she has a thong and some lacy boy shorts in the back of her underwear drawer. She goes to check, because if not, she’ll have to make a trip to the lingerie department before Friday. Maybe she’ll buy a matching set. She’s never really considered having one before. It’s just never made sense - the bra would be clean and the panties still in the hamper, or vice versa, and she’d have to go mismatched anyway, so why buy a set? Besides, underwear come cheaper in a package.

 

Katniss finds the thong, but the other pair have disappeared. She’s not surprised, but she sheds her cotton briefs and pulls on the barely-there scrap of black satin and checks herself out in the full length mirror hanging on the back of her door. It’s a bit much. Or not much, depending on how someone looks at it. Would he think she’s trying too hard to be sexy? She’s already a sure thing. 

 

She sighs and removes the panties. It just doesn’t feel like her. No, she’d need to visit the ladies department and purchase something new. Something fun and flirty, but comfortable - if such a thing exists. 

 

She turns to gather her sleep shirt and briefs, catching a glimpse of her nether regions. _Yikes._ _That’s definitely going to need some attention_ , she thinks. She tries to keep trimmed, but lately, and without anyone to care, she’s let herself go down there. Maybe trimming isn’t the way to go this time, she thinks as she tugs her shirt over her head. There’s a sugaring place just down the street from her office, where the city blocks turn into boutique shops and spas, and cutesy restaurants with overpriced food. She’ll make an appointment tomorrow and get it taken care of. 

 

Finally, with a plan in mind, Katniss crawls between the sheets, then gets out and tries again to be more sexy about it. She may not need to if Peeta throws her on the mattress, though. 

 

_ Hmmmm.  _ Her thoughts turn dirty. Would he throw her down and ravage her? Is he as pent up with sexual frustration as she is? He said as much, but  _ how  _ much? Enough to rip her clothes in half? Should she wear a wrap dress? She should definitely make sure the pathway to her bedroom is clear in case they’re too blinded by lust to see where it is they're going. 

 

She has no idea what kind of lover he is. Is he rough or gentle? Does he like to please a woman first, or get right to his own gratification? Somehow she doesn’t see the latter. She’d bet the farm that he likes to take his time and make his woman crazy with need. 

 

But, she’s not his woman. So maybe he will be all about getting to the point?  _ Hmm… that could be disappointing. _ She should probably bring that up. Make another rule? At least one orgasm each is fair. Maybe two. Is more than that falling into relationship territory? It’s definitely something to think about. They need to keep this thing platonic. Just sex. No feelings of any kind. And Katniss seriously doubts she’d be able to do that if he’s giving her wave after wave of pleasure. 

 

_ Yes, definitely limit it to one.  _

 

With multiple orgasms on the brain, it’s much harder for Katniss to fall asleep. She tosses and turns, determined to avoid bringing herself to release. She’s done that enough over the past few months. No, the next time it happens, it will be at the hands, or mouth, or cock, of a strong, sexy man. Hell, she’s so out if it she’d take his elbow at this point. 

 

It isn’t until 3 A.M that she finally makes it to sleep, only to be wakened by the alarm three hours later, and with a full day ahead of her, plus having held off her own pleasure - which may prove to be a shallow victory, indeed - she is going to be one, cranky HR lady. 

 

She groans, sliding out of bed with her eyes only half-cracked.  _ Best to avoid humanity today.  _

 

Unfortunately, that's hard to do in Human Resources. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Katniss encounters after she arrives at the office late is that her light bulbs are out. 

 

“Damn fluorescent things. One goes out and the rest seem follow like lemmings,” she mutters to herself before a yawn takes over. She calls the head of maintenance, a crotchety old man named Abernathy, and puts in a request via his voicemail. He may not even be in, yet. 

 

She sighs and raises the blinds of the lone window; a window that faces west, so there won’t be  much natural sunlight until after noon. She flips the switch to the single lamp that sits on her desk and, though it’s shadowy as hell, pulls her files from her briefcase and gets to work.

 

Feeling sluggish only twenty minutes later, (who knew a pile of corporate papers wouldn’t do the trick of a cup of coffee?), Katniss walks to the break room in search of a much needed pick me up. She didn’t have time before heading for work this morning to drive through Starbucks. 

 

When she drags herself up to the coffee pot, she sees it’s empty. An audible groan followed by a few curse words that may have started with an ‘F’ resounds throughout the empty room as she drops her head back in exasperation. “Peachy perfection,” she whispers out loud, digging through the cupboards for the supplies to make a fresh pot. She supposes at least she doesn’t have to choke down the stale remnants of the last brew. 

 

“What’s peachy perfection?” a smooth voice asks from the doorway. She yelps and whirls around, hand flying to her chest at the sight of Peeta. He nearly made her heart jump out of her chest. She takes a deep breath to calm herself before she answers him. 

 

A once over makes her eyes narrow at the way he’s such a morning person. Twinkling blue eyes, easy demeanor. He’s achieved the messy state of hair excellence, probably without even trying. He doesn’t even drink coffee and he looks perkier than…  _ Ugh _ . She can’t think without caffeine. It’s too early for her to form metaphors. 

 

Katniss tucks the hair she left loose this morning behind her ears and turns back to check more cupboards, becoming slightly frantic in her search. “I can’t find the coffee.”

 

“Um, that’s because we’re out. Becky ordered some this morning. It should be here tomorrow.”

 

Katniss freezes, arms in midair, then turns slowly, lowering them. Hands clench and fingernails dig into her palms to keep her outrage with Becky under wraps. Another thing to count against her. Not that she’s keeping any kind of count. 

 

“I’m guessing tomorrow is no good?” Peeta asks cautiously when he sees her face. She can only guess at the level of crazy she must look. He doesn’t approach right away, sensing she needs some space.

 

“I just didn’t sleep well.”  _ Or at all _ , she thinks.

 

“Oh? Any reason?” 

 

She can’t help the way her arms cross and her eyes narrow at him as she thinks,  _ You. _

 

“Me?” he guesses correctly, pointing his finger in his chest.

 

She drop her arms, shoulders falling with them in defeat. It’s not fair for her to blame Peeta for her lack of sleep. “I’m just grouchy. It’s not really you,” she says.

 

He walks towards her now that she’s dropped her defenses, stopping in front of her and resting his hands on her upper arms in a show of support. With him so close she can inhale his sweet, woodsy scent. He must have showered with pine needles and bits of exfoliating mahogany under a waterfall of honey, while Katniss barely had time to rub a Dove bar under her armpits. 

 

He’s too close for her to be annoyed with it, though, and her eyes spy a few things she’d like to try out. Have his lips always been so plump? The cleft in his chin always so lickable? His eyes always so…  _ dark.  _

 

It’s pure torture being so close to him. Will she not get any sleep until Friday? 

 

“I have to make a call,” she says abruptly, stepping away from him. “Excuse me.” She hopes no one can see the odd way she’s walking on her way down the hall, clenching her thighs together. 

 

She enters her darkened office, sits at the desk and snags her cell phone from her purse. Moments later, Dr. Zinkman’s office answers. 

 

“This is Katniss Everdeen. I was in yesterday for a test and just wanted to see if there’s been any progress?”

 

The nurse puts her on hold while she searches for Katniss’s chart. The nurse may have also taken an early lunch considering how long she has to listen to the terrible elevator music. 

 

“I’m sorry, Miss Everdeen. The results aren’t in yet,” the nurse informs her. 

 

“Do you know about how long it will take?”  _ Please say this afternoon. _

 

“It usually takes 48 hours. We’ll be sure to call you the moment we get them in.” 

 

Katniss hangs up and drops her head to the desk, resigning herself to the fact that she’s in for one hellacious week. 

 

She calls down to maintenance again to push Mr. Abernathy to fix her bulbs quicker. Work might help her get her mind off sleep and sex. She could do with a heavy dose of both right now, but neither are possible at 9:14 A.M. on a Tuesday. 

 

She groans and slaps her head down on the desk after leaving him another message, this one more hostile than before. Another 30 minutes ticks by, and she can’t wait anymore to get to work. She’ll just have to change out the bulbs herself. 

 

Katniss makes her way to the maintenance closet where she retrieves a box of the fluorescent beams and hauls them back to her office. She heaves and grunts while shoving her desk to the center of the room so she can access the lighting, then kicks her heels off and rucks up her pencil skirt to ascend the three and a half feet to the desktop. Stands on tippy toes, but her fingers barely brush the round tube. She can’t reach to get a good enough grip to twist the thing out of its socket. 

 

_ Grrrrr. _

 

She glances around the room looking for something to give her the extra height she needs. The chair won’t do since it rolls, but her eyes find the small side table in the corner that houses a plant she’s thankful the cleaning lady remembers to water, or it’d be dead.  

 

After removing the plant and placing the table in the center of the desk, she climbs up again, cursing Abernathy six ways to Sunday for making her risk their workman’s comp. She’d never live it down if she had to sign her own injury paperwork.

 

Just as she’s reaching for the glass cylinder, there’s a knock at her door. It isn’t closed all the way so it swings open enough for Peeta to get a glimpse of what she’s up to. 

 

“What the hell?” he says with wide eyes as he takes in the scene. She wobbles a little when she looks over at him, zeroing in on the Venti Starbucks in his hand. He doesn’t hesitate to rush forward and set the drink down, but when his hands wrap around her bare calves to steady her, it almost has the opposite effect, and she has to force her knees not to buckle at his touch. Thank God she had the presence of mind to shave yesterday. Or was it two days ago?  _ Shit.  _ She’s probably prickly. 

 

_ Mental note - shave daily just in case.  _

 

“What are you doing?” he asks with mild irritation that does absolutely nothing to settle the sudden need she feels to rub her thighs together. 

 

“Abernathy won’t pick up and I have to get some work done,” she answers softly, caught in a trance, her eyes locked with his as he stares up at her, close enough that his warm breath hits the exposed skin at her knees where the skirt she shoved up should be covering. 

 

“You could have asked me, Katniss. This isn’t safe.” 

 

She can’t help but think she was safer when he  _ wasn’t  _ touching her. 

 

“Well, I’m up here now, so just don’t let go and I’ll be quick,” she says, trying to keep the breathiness out of  _ don’t let go _ and images of them trying to be quick up against her office wall or on her desk from making her tear up in frustration. Her skirt is already halfway up to her thighs. 

 

His fingers tighten around her flesh.  _ Focus, Katniss,  _ she thinks. Maybe she should tell him to let go. On the other hand, if she falls, she’d fall straight into his arms. Maybe she’d get lucky and one of his hands could slip and assault her in a good way. She’s a bit high strung so it wouldn’t take much. 

 

Once the new cylinder is in place, Katniss steps off the small table and onto the desk. Peeta reaches up for her and she hesitates. She could just use the chair to get down, she  _ should _ just use the chair to get down, but she wants his hands on her. Against her sex-starved judgement she places her hands on his shoulders, while his, big and warm, go to her waist. He lifts her almost effortlessly. 

 

When her feet touch the ground she tries to put some space between them, her backside hitting the edge of the desk. She’s trapped between the hard edge of furniture and the hard planes of a muscled chest beneath her palms, which are probably dampening his light blue dress shirt. No tie today, she notices as her eyes scan the hard angle of his jaw and the smoothness of his freshly-shaven skin. Her fingers are buzzing with electricity, ready to touch and grab and  _ feel _ . 

 

If her fingers are electric, then her lips are practically bursting with need. A bead of sweat trickles down her back. Probably from all the up and down and moving furniture. It has nothing to do with the handsome man standing in front of her. She wants to fan herself because it’s just so damn hot in her office, but she’s afraid to move. Doesn’t  _ want _ to move.

 

“I brought you coffee.”

 

“Th-thank you,” she croaks. Although she was begging for a cup earlier, it isn’t what she’s craving right this moment.  

 

Peeta’s tongue wets his lower lip and a nuclear bomb going off outside couldn’t have pulled Katniss’s attention away from the movement. When he reaches up at her temple to caress the long strands of her hair, then tucks them behind her ear, she melts. 

 

“You know, I didn’t sleep well last night, either,” he says with a raspy, sleep-roughened voice. 

 

She barely has the sense to answer, but she manages. “You can’t tell it.” His fingers smooth the hair behind her ear again, even though none of the strands has escaped, then find their way around to the base of her neck. His hand settles there. No pressure pulling her forward except for the magnetism between them. She knows the first touch of their lips is going to be explosive.

 

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Katniss. You keep me up at night.” His warm, whispered breath carries the scent of cinnamon as it moves over her mouth and nose and cheeks. “I think about what our first kiss will be like. Which piece of clothing I’ll remove first. If you’ll be wearing something lacy and black, or nothing at all under your skirt.” One corner of his mouth ticks up and a beat passes before he adds, “Do you know how hard it was for me to be so close to finding out a few minutes ago and do nothing about it?” 

 

She tries to breathe normally, but he leans in until his lips are at the shell of her ear, his hands skimming her arms on their way back to her waist, making it almost impossible. Her eyes drift closed, living in the moment, listening to him. Soaking up the deep timbre of his words. “I think about how soft your bare skin will feel on mine.” 

 

Katniss’s heart is close to beating its way out of her chest and she fists the front of his shirt to gain some sort of control over the effect he has on her, but digging her fingertips into the hard ridges of his pecs only seems to make it worse. She’s so drowsy with lust for him she can’t think straight. 

 

“Are you as ready for Friday as I am?” 

 

“Friday,” she repeats, because she has no coherent answer. 

 

She gasps when his hands grip her waist and lifts her up on the desk. Something is knocked over but neither of them care to disconnect their gazes to see what it is until Katniss feels something hot seeping into her skirt.

 

“Shit!” she says when she finally sees the large paper cup on its side, steamy brown liquid running across her desk in every direction. Peeta quickly uprights the cup before all of it leaks out and Katniss jumps down, reaching for a box of tissues on the corner of her desk. She grabs a handful to stop the seepage from ruining the papers it’s heading for. The carpet on the other side of the desk isn’t as lucky, and neither is the butt of her skirt. 

 

Maybe it’s a good thing, spilling the coffee, she thinks as she gathers her wits while trying to dry the brown spot on her clothing. She eyes Peeta, still dabbing away at beads of coffee on the furniture. They were about to engage in something indecent, or at least it felt indecent to her, with her door wide open. So close no one could mistake exactly they’re doing. Or about to do, anyway.

 

“Peeta,” Katniss says, knowing she needs to be strong. If not, she’ll end up ripping both their shirts open in her office so she can show him exactly what her skin feels like against his. “I-I think we need to keep things purely professional at work.” 

 

He sighs and stands to his full height. “I know. You’re right. I’m sorry, Katniss, I just got carried away.” He grunts a small laugh, then turns away from her, swooshing the soaked napkin-ball in her wastebasket. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, keeping his back to her. “I must seem pathetic and desperate.”

 

“Peeta, no!” Katniss moves towards him and reaches for his shoulders, spinning him to face her. “I’d hate to know what you think about me, then. I was two seconds from letting you lay me on the desk and find out what I’m  _ not _ wearing under my skirt.” She means to lighten the perception of him she certainly doesn’t agree with, but his face turns to stone and his eyes darken further, if it’s possible. 

 

He groans and spins in a slow circle, pulling at his hair. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

 

Katniss considers maybe she didn’t make the best choice of words, but Peeta doesn’t give her time to respond. “I gotta go. I’ll see you later, Katniss.”

 

Just before he walks out the door he throws over his shoulder, “Don’t take it personally if I avoid you until Friday, alright?” 

  
  


A few hours later, when she’s texted Peeta a thank you for the coffee, the spot on her skirt has dried into a free-form shape and she’s gotten some work done, Katniss decides to pack up and take a half day. She could use a shower and a nap. Focusing is difficult in light of her and Peeta’s  encounter, and being that he’s just down the hall and she wasn’t lying when she told him she didn’t have underwear on, she doesn’t trust herself. Lunch time is when most of their coworkers are out of the office. It would be so easy to sneak down to his room and lock the door behind her. Finish what they started. Of course, they haven’t gotten their tests back yet, but that hasn’t stopped her from daydreaming of all the other ways they can satisfy each other.

 

“Knock, knock.” Katniss looks towards the door for the owner of the voice - Becky.  _ What does she want? _ she thinks irritatedly while trying to keep her expression professional. “Can I come in? I won’t take up too much of your time.”

 

“Sure,” Katniss says, motioning to the chair across from her desk. “Have a seat,” she adds, when she really wants to say  _ make this quick, will ya? _

 

Becky perches on the edge, smoothing her pants before looking up at Katniss sheepishly. “I just want to apologize for yesterday. I had no right to tell you to stay away from your friend. I hope you can forgive me? I’d really like us to be friends.” 

 

Katniss stares blankly at Becky as the theme music to Twilight Zone begins playing in her head. 

Apologize? Forgive?  _ Friends?!  _ Has she lost her damn mind? This is the last thing Katniss expected from Becky. She glances out the window briefly to see if she can catch a glimpse of a pig or two sailing by her window. She should get her camera ready…

 

“Katniss? Are you okay?” Becky asks, snapping Katniss back to the correct dimension. 

 

“Um, yes. Sorry, just didn’t sleep last night and it’s kind of been a day.” She laughs awkwardly, digging into her brain for the professional training to handle the situation. “Your apology is accepted and forgiveness isn’t needed. Really, it’s fine. We can just put it behind us and move on.” 

 

“So, friends?” Becky asks timidly.

 

_ Damn.  _ Katniss had hoped her coworker wouldn’t catch on to her evasion of that particular request. She can’t say no. Becky’s offering an olive branch of sorts, though it’s about as appealing as munching on a dried twig.

 

“Sure,” she answers with a professional smile she practices almost daily. “Friends.” She saves her real ones for her grandmother and Peeta. And some of her cousins. Okay,  _ one  _ of her cousins, Prim. She’s like a sister to Katniss, and the only child of her uncle on her deadbeat father’s side. 

 

“Great!” Becky says enthusiastically. “Honestly, I thought it was going to take so much more grovelling. Hey! Let’s do lunch tomorrow, yeah?” 

 

Katniss packs her things silently while Becky chatters on about the new Pho place a few blocks away, leaving no space in the conversation for two. She keeps a closed-lipped smile on her face and nods her head in the appropriate parts of Becky’s speech all the way to the elevator as they walk side by side.

 

Just as the doors close Becky chirps a quick, “See you tomorrow!”, and waves, to which Katniss thumps her head on the back wall of the elevator when the coast is clear. 

 

_ Just great.  _

 


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as Katniss’s kitten heels hit the pavement, she starts to liven up. Something about being in an office all day under fluorescent lighting, breathing stale air, makes her feel trapped. She’s looking to the sky, wishing she’d majored in something like biology or forestry to take advantage of the fresh air filling her lungs when a passerby blows smoke from a cigarette into her path. 

She inhales the filthy fog and coughs, waving her hand in front of her face as she shoots a glare at the person, who doesn’t seem to care or even notice what they’ve done. 

Ass.

Turning her gaze back toward the parking lot, she spots the salon where she thought about making an appointment for sugaring. No time like the present, she thinks as she walks towards it. 

A bell tinkles when she steps through and a small, but very intimidating-looking woman looks up from her phone briefly. Her hair is jet black and spiky on top, with neat curls plastered to her skin in front of her ears like a pixie. One ear is decorated with studs all the way up and her T-back tank shows off a sleeve of tattoos down one arm. 

“Can I help you?” She asks, eyes back on her phone before she sets it down and gives Katniss her full attention. 

“I’d like to know more about the sugaring and maybe make an appointment.” 

“Have you ever been waxed?” the girl asks.

Katniss nods. “Just a few times.” And only when I know someone’s about to see the kitty, she leaves off. No one needs to know that. 

“It’s a little different. We use an all-natural, water-soluble mixture that’s warm, not hot out of a jar so it won’t burn your skin, and we apply it against the direction of the hair, then remove the hair in the direction that it grows so there’s less pain, but more damage to the follicle. Unlike waxing where they apply it in the same direction and then rip the hair out in the opposite direction of the growth. You’re more likely to bleed that way.”

“Oh.” 

“If you’ve got time I’m available for the next three hours. Otherwiiiiiiiiiise,” she drags the word out as she clicks the mouse a few times, her dark brown eyes searching back and forth on the monitor in front of her. “I can’t get you in until Tuesday.” 

A whole week? She sighs, and now that she knows sugaring is less painful and won’t cause bleeding follicles, though that never happened to her before, she definitely wants to go this route. Or she could just trim up. What would Peeta want? She thinks briefly about asking him, but dismisses the idea just even quicker. Besides, he warned her not to take it personally if he avoided her. Seems Peeta’s as eager for Friday as she is. 

Replaying his confession in her mind curls the corner of her lip ever so slightly. She wonders what he’ll think if she’s completely bare down under. The look of awe she’s picturing on his face makes her tummy flutter and leaves no room for backing out. “Now is good.” 

“I’m Jo,” she says as she leads Katniss to a private room. “Go ahead and undress your lower half, then lay face up on the table.” She points to a comfortable looking apparatus, draped with the coziest white blanket, a small neck pillow perched at one end. “I’ll be back in a bit.” She disappears, leaving Katniss alone to follow orders.

It’s cold when she sheds her skirt and underwear, and she’s tempted to crawl under the blanket, as much to cover herself as for warmth, but she doesn’t. She can feel goosebumps pop up along her legs and arms and she begins to wonder how much longer she has to lay here when Jo re-enters the room and turns on a bright lamp directly overhead. It’s warm on her skin, like laying in a tanning bed, and she begins to relax immediately. 

Jo putters around silently, then rolls what looks like a surgical plate close to the table. Katniss eyes it, looking for pointy things that might hurt, though she can’t really see much from her position. 

“Just relax,” Jo says as she spreads something gooey and warm over Katniss’s bare panty line. It’s easy to relax her tired mind and body to the soft tunes coming from the speakers and the lull of the false sun looming above her. 

She takes a deep breath and smiles to herself. Then Jo rips the warm sugar from her body.

 

 

It’s 2:00 PM when Katniss shoves the door to her apartment open, not caring that it bangs loudly on the wall in her entryway. She enters the space awkwardly, keeping her feet shoulder width apart as she does, trying not to let anything touch the tender flesh surrounding her lady parts. 

“Less painful, my ass,” she mutters as she drops her things on the floor and continues to Frankenstein her way to the bedroom. She carefully removes her skirt and underwear, wincing when the parts of the cotton stuck to little pieces of left behind sugar tug at the skin. A warm bath is what she needs right now. 

And after that, a bucket of aloe to stop the burnt tingling she feels when she walks. Or sits. Or blinks. 

Once she’s taken care of herself, she pops a few aspirin to help with the pain and folds herself into her sheets, pulling the blanket over her head to block out the afternoon sun. The pain keeps her mind off Peeta and the extra curricular activities they’ll be engaging in soon, and by the time the pills kick in she’s cozily burrowed into her bed, succumbing to the exhaustion as it pulls her under.

 

 

Stepping off the elevator with her phone in hand, Katniss scrolls through her work emails as she walks the hall towards her office. 

“Morning, Katniss!” Becky’s high-pitched, over eager greeting comes from the reception area and literally makes Katniss trip over the 4-inch heels she chose to wear. Before she knows it, her knees skid across the rough carpet and her phone, along with the contents of her purse, are sliding across the floor in every direction. 

“Ow!” She knew she should have opted for the booties, but they just didn’t look right with the knee-length skirt she’s wearing. Also, she makes a mental note to spit in the green tea Becky keeps on her desk when she takes a bathroom break. 

On her hands and knees, Katniss scrambles to grab anything embarrassing, like tampons and discarded gum wrappers, or the speeding ticket she has yet to pay, ignoring the sensation of certain carpet burn.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Becky apologizes as she runs to help Katniss collect her belongings. The phone rings and Becky freezes.

Seeing Becky’s dilemma - do her job or help clean up the disaster that’s all her fault - Katniss waves her off. “It’s fine-”

“I’ll help her,” Peeta’s voice, raspier than usual, comes from behind her and seconds later he’s bent down on one knee beside her, helping gather what remains on the floor, the smell of his cologne mixed with the minty freshness of toothpaste taunting her self-control. Becky rushes back to answer the phone and Katniss breathes easier, though only a little. 

She’d slept like a baby, but since waking at 4 A.M. he’s been on her mind. Today makes 48 hours since she was tested. She’s thought all morning that maybe if he got his results back today, too, they could move their Friday night plans to tonight. And tomorrow night. She’s not sure how to suggest it, though. And she shouldn’t at work since she warned him about keeping things professional between them at work. She’d look pretty desperate if she can’t even follow her own rules. 

“What happened?” he asks as he glances at the small bottle of peach-scented lotion in his hand before slipping into her bag. 

“Just clumsy I guess,” she answers, reaching for her wallet. 

After the last item is back in her possession, Peeta stands first, offering his hand. She takes it without thought, surprised by the zing that travels so quickly through her body it practically bypasses her nervous system, sling-shots straight to her core and begins a very rousing pep-talk. What’s even more surprising is that after the short time in her office yesterday and the way she’s been visualizing him in her mind, it shouldn’t have caught her off guard.

He lets go, though she can sense a reluctance to do so, and walks a few feet to retrieve the phone that slid too far for her to crawl. The first step causes her to wince, and so does the second. Looking down she can see her knees are an angry red color, and now that she’s focused on them instead of him, the pain comes roaring to life. 

Katniss sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. 

“Are you alright?” Peeta asks with concern as he walks towards her with her phone in hand. 

“Yeah,” Katniss replies tightly, scooting her feet across the carpet as much as she can in the heels so as not to wrinkle or stretch the skin on her knees.

“Here let me get your things,” Becky coos helpfully, scurrying over to them. She slips in front of Peeta with her back to him and takes Katniss’s bag, then turns to him and holds her hand out for the phone. “I’ll take it from here. Thanks, Peeta.” 

Katniss glances quickly at Peeta and shrugs her shoulders just enough that she knows he knows this is all too weird. He just smiles politely at them both and says, “Have a good day, girls,” before walking the rest of the hallway towards his office. Katniss is determined not to watch him go, but she still wonders if his dark grey slacks are as tight in the rear as they are on his thighs. He must have very muscular thighs. 

Appropriate work thoughts. 

One step in the direction of her office wipes away dirty thoughts forming as burning pain radiates from her knees. “Motherf….” she catches herself before it slips out, letting the rest of it die on her tongue. 

“Thank you,” she tells Becky when she’s situated behind her desk. 

“No problem,” Becky says, walking towards the exit. “Ring me if you need anything, okay, Katniss?” 

Katniss nods, unsure where the 180 degree shift came from since Monday night. She vividly remembers the daggers Becky sent her way any time she spoke with Peeta, but the looks she’s getting now feel more like sickly-scented roses. 

Not wanting to give it too much thought, Katniss gets to work, trying to ignore the pulses of discomfort that have her wanting to take another half day. 

“Knock knock,” Peeta says as he comes in her door, gently closing it behind him. 

Katniss looks up from her computer, grateful to see him standing there. And with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. 

“Hey,” she greets him softly, the kind of genuine smile appearing on her lips that only he can put there. 

“Thought you could use this,” he says, setting the cup in front of her as he rounds the desk. “And this.” He pulls an antiseptic wipe from his pocket and, tearing the package open, gets down on one knee. 

“Do you mind?” He asks, looking up into her eyes, hand poised in front of the burn. 

She finds herself speechless at the simple gesture, staring into the blue she’s seen carry so many emotions over the course of their friendship, now full of tenderness and care. The burning seems distant now with him so close. 

Katniss nods, reaching for the coffee to give her mouth something to taste before she hauls him up to her lips by the collar of his wine-colored dress shirt. She almost spews the coffee when he touches the damp cloth to the burn. 

Aaaaand the pain is back. 

“Sorry,” he says, keeping his concentration on her wound. “Take these.” He pulls another small square from his pocket, a single dose of aspirin, and hands it to her. She uses the coffee to get the pills down and then slumps back in her chair while he tends to the other knee. She’s ready for the sting this time so it’s not so bad. And she’s able to concentrate more on how his hands feel on the back of her knee. 

Her eyes take a leisurely tour of his features - the plump lips he’s pursing in concentration. His hair, unstyled today but no less attractive, that falls across his forehead in short, golden waves. The cleft in his chin that seems like the perfect cradle for her tongue. The bags under his eyes that tell her he’s sleeping about as much as she is. Friday can’t come fast enough or stay long enough. 

When he’s finished he looks up, catching her staring. She doesn’t know why she looks away. It’s not as if he doesn’t know he’s attractive, and that she thinks it, too, or she wouldn’t have agreed to be his fuck buddy. 

She clears her throat before saying, “You’re doing a terrible job of avoiding me, you know.” She meant to tease him, but her voice feels raw and she couldn’t muster a smile if her life depended upon it right now. For no other reason than he’s close and she wants him closer. 

His eyes flit to her lips and she watches his throat constrict. Lips part. Tongue wets the lower one. He says with all seriousness, “It’s harder than it looks.” 

His eyes find hers again, searching, and a slow smirk begins to tick up one corner of his mouth. Katniss bursts into a fit of laughter and Peeta isn’t far behind. 

“Oh, God that sounded so awful,” he says in between bouts of amusement, clutching his chest.

Katniss nods her head and swipes at a few tears threatening to escape her lashes. “Oh my God, Peeta.” She can’t finish the sentence, laughing all over again at the vision he created with those words. 

It’s exactly what she needed - her friend. The one she can laugh with and see around the office without an added layer of tension that’s been between them since Friday when they decided to be each other’s relief. It’s not a bad tension, but any tension is… well, tense. Making the easiness they shared not so easy anymore. And for the first time Katniss wonders if maybe this isn’t as great of an idea as she first thought when she proposed it to Peeta. 

“Well, I should get back to work.” He jabs his thumb in the direction of his office, eyes still wrinkled around the edges with glee, breaking Katniss out of her thoughts. When he walks to the door, her eyes involuntarily drift to the ass she so arduously tried to avoid earlier in the hallway, then huffs away her most recent thought like the big bad wolf blew down the three little pigs’ straw house. 

“Thank you, Peeta,” she calls out before he opens the door. He looks back with a smile that could put her on her scraped up knees. Thank God she’s sitting. 

“It’s my pleasure, Katniss.” 

 

Buried in a pile of paperwork she’s not currently focused on, Katniss startles when Becky asks, “Ready to go?” 

“Huh?” Katniss looks up at Becky blankly. She stands in the doorway with an expectant look on her face, pink lips curling up in a friendly smile and her ponytail swinging as if she just skipped to my lou and back.

“Lunch, remember?” 

Her brain squeezes in thought until the haze of lust for Peeta mixed with the sting of carpet burn clears. Oh. Right. She’d obviously been so excited about it she’d forgotten. That’s a thing, isn’t it?

Her knees are screaming at her to tell Becky to piss off, but she reminds them she works in HR and that’s not an option for someone in her position.

“Oh! Yes, yeah, just... look at the time! Is it noon already? This day is just...” She checks her watch for effect, noting it is well before noon… “flying by,” she finishes lamely, eyebrows scrunching close enough together for an answer as to why the hell Becky eats lunch at 10:45 AM. 

“I skip breakfast so I like to take my lunch break early,” Becky pats her flat belly. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.” 

Katniss wonders if there’s any place open for lunch so early. 

“I thought we could go to Sae’s Diner since they’re open 24 hours.”

Are her thoughts so readable that Becky, her once office nemesis turned sudden ally, which is weird enough on its own, can answer her questions before she’s even asked them? 

What color are your underwear? she think bravely.

“Have you had the club sandwich? It’s amazing!” Becky 

Katniss’s shoulders sag in relief as she grabs her wallet and shuts down her computer, deciding to get this over with since she now knows Becky can’t read minds. It would be super awkward if she could, since the only thing she’s been thinking about is how slowly she can stand to undress Peeta when the time comes. A few times she’s just ripped his shirt open and shoved him onto her couch before forcing her mind to rewind and savor the moment. 

Becky chatters the whole way to the diner, and mostly through lunch until Katniss gets a call on her cell. Thank God. 

“I need to take this,” she tells Becky, answering the call without waiting for a reply. She’s thankful to hear someone else’s voice, even if only for a minute. 

“Miss Everdeen, we have your test results. You can come down to the clinic or we can email them to you.”

“Oh, no that’s fine, I’ll come by right away,” Katniss says to the nurse, shooting Becky a reluctant look emphasized with a shrug that she hopes says she has zero control over the situation. 

“Sorry I’m gonna have to cut our lunch short. I need to run a quick errand and there’s only twenty minutes of my break left.” She’ll have to find a way to break up the remaining five and a half hours of work she’s left with after this ridiculously early lunch.

“Oh, okay! No worries! We can reconnect for lunch on Friday or next week.” Becky smiles too sweetly at her and it causes her to double take as she gets up from the booth. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” she answers before throwing fifteen dollars on the table to cover the tip and the chicken salad she wasn’t hungry for in the first place. 

She high tails it to the clinic because that’s the excuse she gave Becky and she doesn’t want to be a liar. She could have easily called back and had them send the results via email, but then she’d just have to find another errand to run to kill time before showing back up at the office, since Becky seems to know all the comings and goings of everyone there. Like any good receptionist, Katniss supposes. And another great reason for them to be super careful around the office. 

Once she’s back behind her desk, she pulls the envelope from her purse and digs her fingernail into the corner to open the seal. She knows she’s clean, but there’s always a nagging thought that something could be wrong. 

She does a little dance in her chair when she sees that she’s in the clear. 

A soft knock on her door frame makes her freeze. Peeta leans against it with a grin on his handsome face, intently watching her with his hands in his pockets, pulling the fabric of his dress pants even tighter. “What’s got you all happy?”


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh, hey,” Katniss says, tucking a few locks of hair behind her ears as a blush colors her cheeks. “Nothing, really.”

 

Peeta scoffs. “I haven’t seen you dance like that when there’s music playing.”

 

Katniss knows Peeta won’t continue to badger her for an answer if she doesn’t want to give it. But she kinda does want him to know. He’s going to find out Friday anyway, so what does it matter if it’s a little early. 

 

Peeta’s eyes glitter with curiosity as Katniss decides whether or not to admit she was dancing because she gets to have sex with him in two days. And 6 hours. 34 minutes. But who the fuck is counting, anyway?

 

_ Her _ . That’s who. 

 

She decides to be honest, pushing the white paper across her desk to the opposite edge, Peeta’s eyes tracking the object. “I, uh, got my test back. It’s good.” He pushes off the door frame and sits in the chair across from her, pulling a folded envelope from his back pocket.

 

He slides it to her, same as she did. “What a coincidence,” he says with a smirk. “Me, too.”

 

Papers crinkle as they both open the reports and scan the results. After a minute, Peeta reaches for his test. Katniss hands it back and watches him fold the papers together and send them through the shredder next to her desk. 

 

He sits back down and crosses one leg, leaning back in the chair. “Looks like we’re on for Friday, then.”

 

“Yeah, unless…” Katniss trails off, forgetting to think before she speaks.

 

“Unleeesssss….?” Peeta asks, his gaze zeroed in on her. “Are you reconsidering?”

 

Katniss’s mouth parts in disbelief at the thought of  _ not _ going through with their plan. A gorgeous man, who also happens to be her friend and cares about her, who she feels the same way about, wants to sleep with her. And if that isn’t enough to keep her moving forward with it, then what she’s been through this week in anticipation alone would be the clincher.

 

“No! Of course not. I was thinking, maybe… if you don’t have plans,” she clears her throat nervously, the last of her sentence softer and higher in pitch,  “maybe… we don’t have to wait until Friday?” 

 

Peeta leans forward in his seat, elbows resting on his thighs. His fingers steeple under the lickable cleft in his chin and Katniss swallows. “Are you saying you want to move it up? Say,” he checks his watch, “after work today?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, don’t you? I haven’t been sleeping and you look like a hot mess.” She takes a dig at him to defuse some of the ever-present tension between them. 

 

It works. Peeta scoffs at her and puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. 

 

“A sexy hot mess, but still. A hot mess,” she adds before he can say anything. 

 

Peeta looks at his watch again, and Katniss wonders how much time could have passed between the two glances. He seems to check the time as frequently as she does. “I didn’t take lunch today so I can leave early.”

 

Katniss thinks back to Becky and their stupid-early outing. She knows deep down that Becky didn’t consciously sabotage the opportunity that’s presenting itself to her right now, but she can’t help wondering if the receptionist is some kind of voodoo woman. 

 

“I can’t leave til five, but it only takes me fifteen minutes to get home.” She thinks about giving him her key and instructions to lay naked across her sofa, but then she remembers the folded laundry she has yet to put away covering it. Can she ask him to move it? 

 

_ Oh for fuck’s sake, have a little self control.  _

 

“Why don’t you give me til six?” Katniss asks as her pulse picks up at the realization that those 54 hours and handful of minutes have just been whittled away to 3 hours.

 

_ 3! _

 

Her blood pressure will be rivaling the speed of the Bullet Train soon. If only that could shrink those 3 hours to 3 minutes, but who is she kidding? When a person hasn’t had sex in over 12 months, three seconds is too long at this point. 

 

“Six it is. I’ve gotta go get some, uh, work done,” Peeta says, a little grunt escaping him as he stands. He turns quickly and she thinks he adjusts himself, but she’s not sure. He looks back before he makes it out the door, eyes skimming the length of her briefly before he leaves. “See you tonight, Katniss.”

 

Katniss spends the last of the afternoon watching the clock tick away the time until she rediscovers her sexuality. It goes by painfully slowly, but finally -  _ finally!  _ \- the clock strikes five. She doesn’t need to pack up - she’s been ready to grab and go for the last 15 minutes. 

 

A quick glance in the direction of Peeta’s office as she locks her door causes her to pause. His door is closed, but the light is still on. He probably forgot to turn it off since she’s sure he’s feeling the same haste she is about the evening. When she reaches his office, she tries the knob to see if it’s locked, but it’s not. She pushes the door open and steps across the threshold, peeking around for the switch, when she notices Peeta behind his desk, a stack of file folders in front of him taller than the Sears Tower. 

 

“I thought you were already gone?” Katniss asks, her stomach sinking when he looks up at her,  disappointment clearly evident in his eyes. 

 

He sighs deeply and drops the open folder he’s holding. “As luck would have it, Abernathy stopped by my office at 3:55 with some ‘very important’,” he air quotes the words with his fingers, “accounting work that must be done tonight.”

 

“Oh?” She tries to keep the displeasure from her voice, but she’s not very successful. 

 

“I know,” Peeta groans. “Trust me, I know.” He doesn’t have far to fall when he slumps forward, his forehead making contact with the stack of file folders, weaving his fingers together behind his head. He looks so forlorn that it’s easy for her to forget about her own plight and the fact that it was almost rectified, now stripped away like the hair on her vagina. Only this hurts worse. 

 

_ Damn you, Abernathy!!  _ Katniss mentally shakes her fist into the air at him. If he wasn’t the CEO of the company, she’d spit in his whiskey-laced coffee tomorrow morning, and then write him up for being the biggest cock block of all time. 

 

She drops her bag by the door and rounds the desk to stand behind him. She kneads his shoulders, noting the rock solid tension he’s been holding in them. “Damn, Peeta, you’re so stiff,” she says, digging harder to loosen him up. 

 

His muffled voice finds her ears. “Katniss, I’m trying my best to abide by your wishes of keeping our arrangement outside of work. It’s really not a good idea for you to touch me right now.”

 

She freezes, then backs away slowly, resuming her place by the door. “Oh. Okay. Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry, Katniss. It’s not you. You’re… perfect.” He looks her over quickly but appreciatively, the heat in his gaze like gasoline to a flame.

 

“H-how long will it take? I mean, it can’t be all night. You can come by when you’re done.”  _ Right? _ she thinks desperately. 

 

“This will take hours, and he wants it on his desk first thing tomorrow.” 

 

Katniss represses the urge to fall to the floor and flail her arms and legs about in the most childish display of unfairness. It’s a good thing the office has a no firearms policy, but then she remembers there are butter knives in the kitchen. 

 

She banishes the wicked thoughts. 

 

“By the time I leave here tonight I’ll be too exhausted,” Peeta tells her. “What if we just say tomorrow night?” 

 

It’s a huge bummer to have her window of opportunity shrink so small and then balloon back up to double digits again. But what choice is there? As much as she’d like to, they can’t gratify themselves all over Peeta’s desk because it would break the rule Peeta’s trying so hard to keep, and they  _ should _ uphold it. Things could get very messy otherwise. And besides, they only have to make it a few more hours and after that, they’ll be sated and on a good weekly schedule. No more dancing around each other at the office. 

 

Katniss pulls out her phone and opens the calendar. “I think that’ll work, but let me ch-” 

 

_ Shit.  _ She completely forgot her cousin Prim is using her place as a stopover on her trip across the country. She leans heavily against his door and groans as she slides down the smooth wood surface, her butt hitting the carpet with a thud. “I can’t tomorrow.” 

 

“What? Why?” 

 

Katniss would laugh at the desperation in his plea if she didn’t acutely feel it herself. She’s tempted to call her cousin and tell her to keep on driving, hell she’ll even pay for a hotel room somewhere, if it hadn’t been 18 months since they’d last seen each other. And since Prim is like a sister to her, she can’t just blow her off. Who knows when she’ll get the chance to visit with her again? The holidays are months away, and what’s one more 24 hour period compared to that? 

 

Once Friday hits, they’ll have the entire weekend. They can stay in bed for two and a half days straight if they want to. 

 

“My cousin, Prim is stopping by tomorrow. She leaves Friday morning, but I know she’ll want to go out to dinner and catch up, and I just can’t put her off.” 

 

“No, no you can’t. Family first,” Peeta says understandingly. He blows out another deep breath. “Looks like it’s back to Friday.” 

 

“Yeah. Friday.” Katniss starts to get up, but it’s harder than it looks with 4 inch heels strapped to her feet. She slumps back against the door and lifts her arms towards Peeta, too emotionally tired to do much else. And okay, maybe she wants him to touch her somewhere. Anywhere. 

 

He smirks, a good sign that he hasn’t completely spiraled down with her, and rises to help. He pulls her to her feet with ease, and then they’re standing chest to chest, her hands resting in his.

 

The temperature in the room feels like it just rose twenty degrees. It’s stifling. So much so that it’s hard for her to breathe, and she has to try extra hard to suck in air, which causes her chest to expand and bump into his.

 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Peeta hisses and steps back, breaking all contact. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, the other one planted on his hip as he turns away. “Fucking Haymitch.” 

 

He makes an agitated circle around his desk while Katniss stands there, frozen in awe and fear and desire, all of it stirring to make one explosive cocktail. 

 

From behind his desk with eyes that don’t stray from hers, he says, “You better go, Katniss.” 

 

She nods and fumbles behind her for the knob, feeling the same desperation to both keep their commitment to the workplace and screw each others brains out. It feels dangerous. Alluringly so. Soon the temptation will be too great. 

 

Katniss leaves without saying goodbye, and Peeta doesn’t offer one, either, but once she’s home she can’t think about anything else.  _ Big surprise.  _ Her apartment, while sparsely decorated and very much a minimalist’s living space, seems more like a void than usual. 

 

Cleaning seems like a good idea. She’s full of energy she can’t get rid of, so she changes into yoga pants and a t-shirt, wincing slightly as the fabric slides across her knees, then sets to work trying to rid her thoughts of a sexy blonde man that’s all alone in a deserted office. 

 

_ All alone.  _

 

_ Deserted office. _

 

_ Sexy as hell. _

 

Her stomach rumbles and she has an idea. 

 

_ Hungry.  _

 

She’s certain Peeta is probably sitting in his office, starving, working away on those accounting files. He told her to leave, but he didn’t say not to come back bearing sustenance. 

 

She tosses the dusting rag and can of Pledge on the sofa, still covered in laundry, and grabs her wallet, almost forgetting to lock the door on her way out.  _ Damn.  _ He’s in her head for sure. 

 

Finally in the car, she hits the Thai place down from their office, grabbing two orders of Crazy Noodle, Peeta’s favorite, and some bubble tea. That should perk him right up. And it’s not sexy at all. Slurping thick, flat noodles with sauce all over them? Katniss shudders. Maybe this late night visit will break up some of that tension and give them a few desperately needed laughs before Friday night. 

 

The elevator is slower than usual, or maybe it’s just her eagerness to see him. Among other things. Finally the metal box arrives to take her up, and as she steps out on the tenth floor she can’t help but be honest with herself. Every step towards his office assures her she wants to fuck him right there in his office. To hell with her stupid rule. They both want it.  _ Badly. _

 

Her vision clouds with lust as she thinks about him shoving those file folders to the ground and bending her over the desk. Her hips would be bruised for days with how hard he’ll pound into her from behind. A shiver of excitement races through her, soaking her panties when she realizes she  _ wants  _ those bruises. 

 

His light is still on, the door wide open. She marches straight in, intent on dropping the food into one of the guest chairs and straddling him in his swivel chair, uncomfortable leather and plastic arms be damned! She’ll wedge herself into his lap or die trying. 

 

But the presence of not one but two blondes in the room pulls her up short. She has to cover her shock and extreme disappointment quickly before Becky turns her head around and Peeta looks up from across his desk, just as shocked to see her as she is to see the wretched receptionist. 

 

_ Voodoo woman. _

 

“Heeeey…. guys!” Katniss squeaks. 

 

Becky hesitates, then pastes on a giant smile. “Katniss! Did you forget something?”

 

Did she forget something? Hell, yes, she forgot something. To bang Peeta’s brains out. “No, no, just thought Peeta might appreciate a little something to eat, that’s all.” She looks at him and holds up the take out bag, only just noticing the two half-eaten deli sandwiches and bags of chips in between them. “Oh.” The sting that she was beaten to it only grows as the seconds tick by.

 

“Great minds, right?” Becky says with a giggle, her perfect curls bouncing just a little. “I noticed Peeta was staying late so I offered to keep him company.” Katniss could swear she didn’t have those smoky eyes earlier this morning when she helped her into her office. 

 

_ The bitch.  _

 

“Hey,” Peeta says, standing to greet her. “Is that what I think it is?” She nods and he takes the bag from her, giving her a quick hug. His lips brush her cheek in an almost kiss and it helps to lessen the sting. Though, why he hasn’t kicked Becky out like he did her is something she’ll ask about later. 

 

Or will she? They’re not in a relationship, she reminds herself. She’s not his girlfriend. They’re on the road to becoming more, but they’re not there, yet. And even when they do finally take that step, there are ground rules in place to keep things from getting messy and out of control.

 

“Sit here, Katniss,” Becky says as she moves her giant purse from the empty chair in the corner, pulling it around for her. As much as she wants to bolt out of the office - with Peeta in tow - she doesn’t. Looks like she’ll have to make nice and wait Becky out. 

 

So she sits and notes the time. 7:23. “Got any fun plans tonight, Becky?” Katniss probes. She hopes it sounds like friendly conversation and not an inquisition as to when she’s leaving. 

 

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ and shrugs. “Just helping Peeta when he needs it. You know, bringing him water and food so he can keep working. I can’t believe how unfair Uncle Haymitch is being to him.” 

 

Katniss grins at her tightly, then turns her eyes to Peeta, who’s taking a drink of the tea she brought him. “I love this stuff. Thank you, Katniss.” Peeta sets the food she brought him on the edge of his desk. “For later. I think it’s going to be a long night.”

 

He rolls up his sleeves and gets back to work while Becky skims her phone and Katniss twiddles her thumbs, eyes fixated on Peeta for the most part. When he looks up at her, she tilts her head in Becky’s direction and gives him a questioning look. He gives her a tiny shrug and shakes his head as if it’s no big deal. Girls just always sit in his office doing absolutely nothing while he works. 

 

Is he that naive? 

 

Finally, Becky puts her phone away and turns to Katniss. “So, when do you want to do lunch again? I had a great time today. Shame it was cut short.” 

 

Katniss notices as Peeta’s attention flits briefly between the two of them, then back to the pile of papers. 

 

“I’m not sure. I’ve got a full schedule next week and this week is already shot.” Vague is best, Katniss decides. No commitment up front means she can put Becky off for a while. She’s a persistent thing. 

 

“Okay, then. Just let me know. There’s a burger place that just opened I’ve been dying to try. Peeta,” Becky coos. Katniss’s throat constricts at what she senses is coming. “Maybe you can go with me since Katniss can’t?” 

 

Peeta drags his eyes from his work for a second and clears his throat. “Um, sure, yeah.” His answer is so flippant Katniss wonders if he even heard the question. Her blood boils and she stares icily at the sandwich on his desk, trying not to give away that she’s pissed at him and hates the girl to her left. 

 

She stands abruptly, ready to get the hell out of there. She won’t be sleeping tonight for a whole different reason, and she knows exactly what it is, though admitting jealousy isn’t something Katniss has ever been good at. She prefers to remove herself from the situation altogether. 

 

“Well, I have to get going. Gotta be up early tomorrow.” 

 

“I’ll walk you,” Peeta says as he rises from his chair. 

 

Katniss doesn’t say anything as they start down the hallway, Peeta close behind her, a tense silence between them. Or maybe it’s just her that’s tense. When they reach the elevator he presses the call button, then runs a hand through his hair. He looks spent. It’s almost enough for her to forget that a girl who’s infatuated with him is hanging out in his office after hours.  _ And _ that he just made a lunch date with her. 

 

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out tonight. Thanks for the food,” he says sincerely. He leans in to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. 

 

She doesn’t look him in the eyes, afraid he’ll see the ire there. It’s not her place, really, to dictate who he hangs out with. She just wishes it wasn’t  _ her. _

 

_ So help me, God, if he screws her… _

 

The elevator doors open, interrupting what she knows is a ridiculous thought, but it can’t be helped right now. “You’re welcome. See you tomorrow, Peeta.” She steps in and turns her back to the wall, facing him. Just as the doors begin to close, she can’t help the bitter words that pop  out. “Enjoy your evening with  _ Becky _ .”

 

Peeta’s face scrunches up in confusion, and just as the doors are about to close he sticks his hand between them, wedging himself inside and jamming his thumb in the button for the parking garage. 

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

 

Katniss folds her arms and stares at his chest. Anywhere but his eyes. She knows the power of those baby blues, and right now she wants to stay pissed. 

 

After a few seconds of her not answering, he asks, “Do you think there’s something going on with me and Becky?” He seems to be in complete control. Meanwhile, she’s unraveling like a poorly made sweater. 

 

“I don’t know, Peeta, is there?” she bites out, finally looking up at him. 

 

He steps back, his expression mirroring that of someone who’s just been slapped.

 

“You told me to go home but you let her stay?” Her voice is inching up in pitch with every word. 

 

He scoffs. “It’s not like I invited her, Katniss.” The words make her feel a little better, but there’s still a long way to go. “She showed up of her own free will with food. What am I supposed to do? Say thanks but get out?”

 

_ Yes.  _

 

Katniss sighs and grinds her teeth. “I guess not,” she mumbles, tightening her arms across her chest. 

 

“I only told you to go because I’m  _ this close _ ,” he holds a shaky thumb and forefinger up for her to see - there’s barely a sliver of space in between the pads of his fingers - “to fucking your brains out.” He’s still holding it together, but just barely.

 

The atmosphere turns from chilly to humid like the flip of a switch. 

 

“I’m not in danger of ripping Becky’s clothes off in my office. Or anywhere for that matter. It’s never even occurred to me once.” His confession closes the gap to making her feel better about the situation with Becky. Her arms fall to her sides, but she’s not sure what to do now. 

 

The elevator slows, the ding alerting them they’ve reached the garage. When the doors slide open, he steps out of her way, displeasure not so much written across his features as it is in his tone when he tells her softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

 

And now she feels like shit. 

 


End file.
